authors notes--
this piece was helped by "Ugly Pink Machines" If I had written the script for Dmc2"
Go check it out. its really funny and almost accurate in caricature.
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Lucia cried. Again.
"KEEEL ME, en Eberting vill be OVah wit!" cried Lucia, with tears running down her tanned cheeks. "KEEEL ME" she cried again and this time, with more feeling. She grabbed the sleeve of the Devil Hunter who was walking away.
"Lucia, you need to go back home and be with Matier." He shook his head, debating whether or not he should just ignore her. It was hard not to when the red haired female clung on to his new devil hunter suit. The last one was put away due to the extensive damage from the many adventures he took.
"But…but" she sputtered, "I vas krea-ated by ARIUS!"
"Oh give it up, Lucia. I'm not here to play psychiatrist to you. Matier should be the one to console you. Right now, I've got demons to kill." He felt claustrophobic around her whining. Though he had already told her that Devils Never Cry, it should be enough. But the repercussions of seeing so many clones like herself must have proved hard pressed.
"But…but, Dante, I am not de only one! I taught I vas de one!"
Despite trying to understand her thick and horrible accent, he lifted a silver brow in question, "Eh? This isn't the Matrix, Lucia." And with an exasperated sigh, he ran a gloved hand over his silver hair, "Now let go so I can kick some butt. Go home, Lucia."
She twitched and sniffled, but managed to cling on. Dante pulled away from her grasp and shook his head again, muttering about overemotional females.
"KEEELL MEE!" she cried again, but at least her cries were fading as Dante went out of her sight at a break neck run.
When Lucia was alone, she wished that her clones were nice girls so she'd have a ton of sisters. Though, if she encountered any of them, they'd likely go into a series of attacks and that she can't bear right now.
Matier came from behind her, the small woman slouched and the wrinkled face looked up at her charge, "Ware iz de zon of Spahhda?"
Startling Lucia, the red haired voluptuous protector of vie de marii held up her cutlasses, "Matier! Matier!"
"Yes yes, my child, I am her." The old woman sighed, hoping to alleviate the fears of the younger one.
"How can I bear de taught dat I, I am not de girl I taught I vas!" Lucia knelt down to the old woman to get eye level with her, "Matier, vvhy did you not tell me? Is dare anymore lies?"
"Child, child, I kept dis sekrit van you, because I knew dat you vould not concentrate on your tasks." Matier held a brown, wrinkled, small hand and placed it over Lucia's bright head. "Look how you are now. You are an emotional vreck." Then considered this again, "Did you vant to be killed bevore you found out?"
She shook her head, "No! No! I vant to livvee so dat I can fight de horrible demons that cum to our village! I vant to protect eberyone!"
"Dere, dere, child, see wat I mean?" the old woman smacked her lips together, "But now you vant to die! So eagerly!"
"Only because I vould turn into a MONSTER!" she yelled so loud that it startled the old woman, sending her back a step or two away.
"Now, Matier, it iz your duty to put me out of mah misery!" she lunged at the older woman, hoping to hold her tight, but Matier, though she was an old woman sidestepped her quickly, making Lucia grab at empty air.
Matier pursed her wrinkled lips together, "Do I have to slap sum sense into you! Stop dat! If you turn into a monster, I will do sumthing about it. But now you have your duties! Now go!"
Lucia cried again and nodded her head, "Yes, but but…"
Matier raised a finger at her, "No butts! Stop dat and get going! Dere is a world of demons coming to our village. Now go!"
Lucia nodded, then ran off, her whimpers still could be heard as she skipped and hopped on top of those zig zagging terra cotta roof tops. Leaving Matier with an expression of exasperation, she whispered to herself, "I must now go and make an army of food voor de villagers. Perhaps some baguettes again with a side of cheese."
With that, she turned her back with her two brown wrinkled hands clasped together at the back and you can hear the smacking of her lips.